Cycling was her passion. When studies permitted, he took her bicycle and went.... through the streets of the city or the nearby towns. She preferred the hills. When, struggling a bit, he arrived at the top of the hills, he would fly down the little streets and narrow alleys - and he felt like a great cyclist.
On Saturday, he was doing just this - the air was cool and crisp - in his happiness he began to whistle. Then, something broke: the brakes!
He tried in vain to gain control of the bike, as he quickly a approached an intersection - an intersection he knew very well. It was dangerous; he cars and trucked zipped through oblivious to their surroundings. In an instant he saw the truck coming, himself in its path.... the impact would be inevitable and death certain.
A cry left the lips of the boy: "Mary, help me!"
A fraction of a second - and a stone in the road deviated the bike to the right side of the street, while a few feet away the driver managed (incredibly!) to stop the truck.
A large group of people rant to the side of the boy, who was bewildered and only slightly bruised. "It was Her! It was Her!" They didn't understand what he was saying, but when he got the strength to gather his thoughts, he smiled and showed everyone the Miraculous Medal he wore around his neck. He said, "I am positive: She saved me, making the bicycle turn before the impact!"
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